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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23048656">Sleep Well?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/0Rocky41_7/pseuds/0Rocky41_7'>0Rocky41_7</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>I Guess This is Happening: Theodora Hawke [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awkwardness, F/F, Fluff, Purple Hawke (Dragon Age), hawke is definitely carrying trauma from kirkwall</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 05:48:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,593</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23048656</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/0Rocky41_7/pseuds/0Rocky41_7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke thinks the Seeker needs to sleep. The Seeker insists she has to work. There's a compromise, and Iron Bull is seeing things that aren't there (yet).</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Female Hawke/Cassandra Pentaghast, Hawke/Cassandra Pentaghast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>I Guess This is Happening: Theodora Hawke [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2111598</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sleep Well?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Follow up to<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22947886"> this</a> little baby.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>                Leliana had a talent for getting ahold of people who should, by all reasonable rights, be unreachable. Whether it was her spy network, some frankly incredible message ravens, or simply a preternatural sense for letter delivery—truly, if there was <em>someone </em>who would be able to find Warden Aeducan, it would be Leliana. This unearthly talent was why, on a dusty field out in the Exalted Plains, Cassandra was going over missives from Leliana regarding the political situation in Nevarra. Leliana wanted to bring Nevarra in as an ally, and thought Cassandra’s ties with the Pentaghast family might offer some assistance. Cassandra did not want any part of any negotiations with Nevarra and she <em>certainly</em> did not want to <em>go</em> to Nevarra. Wasn’t this sort of thing what Josephine was for?</p><p>                After a long day of chasing down halla and driving partisan fighters out of Dalish territory, all Cassandra wanted was to sleep. But work called, just as she knew the Inquisitor was in her own tent, making repairs on her staff. Winning over one little Dalish clan did not, quite honestly, seem like something that ought to be a priority, but Lavellan was determined. Cassandra had an inkling this might have something to do with how harshly the Inquisitor had been received by the clan. No one <em>said</em> “flat-ear”, but the sentiment was there. With a quick shake of her head, Cassandra brushed off the doubts. Either they trusted the Inquisitor’s sense of intuition or they didn’t—and so far, she’d done alright, guided by her advisors.</p><p>                And now Cassandra was just lost in thought and had re-read the same sentence at least four times. She still had no idea what it said.</p><p>                “Bit late for reading, isn’t it Seeker?” Cassandra’s gaze snapped upwards and she could not stop the heat that rose in her face when she saw Hawke at the entrance of her tent. As happened whenever she saw Hawke anymore, she was immediately and vividly reminded of that night in the Emerald Graves, and how the Champion’s dark eyes flashed in the moonlight, and how warm her mouth had been. Frantically, she tried to supplant this with recollections of earlier that day—Hawke sweaty and caked in dust, bellowing at Varric that it couldn’t possibly be <em>this</em> hard to herd a halla in the right direction! Success was less than ideal.</p><p>                “Blame Leliana,” she said. “The spymaster never sleeps.”</p><p>                “Sister Nightingale is a persistent one,” Hawke agreed, folding her arms and rocking back on her heels. “I’ll tell you, that one scares me, and not a lot of things do. Pretty sure if I tried to leave before this is through, she’d send someone to peel my skin off.” Cassandra snorted.</p><p>                “I think it’s doubtful, but I won’t say it’s never happened. I can’t be sure.”</p><p>                “What is it she’s got you going over at this unkind hour of the night?” Hawke tipped her head slightly, making her bangs fall slanted across her forehead. She was again wearing the warpaint that had been absent from her face on her arrival at Skyhold—maybe the Champion was returning.</p><p>                “She wants an alliance with Nevarra.”</p><p>                “Ah, and she thinks Princess Pentaghast can help!” Cassandra’s withering scowl might accomplish with the Champion’s skin what Leliana’s knives hadn’t yet. But Hawke just stretched that infuriating grin across her face, leaning forward as she tipped back on her heels, and made Cassandra recall that this was a woman who had been best friends with Varric Tethras for the better part of a decade.</p><p>                “If you call me that again, I’ll skin you myself.” Hawke laughed and walked in without further invitation, circling around behind Cassandra’s chair. Cassandra tried not to watch her, but that only meant that when the weight of the Champion’s hands came to rest on her shoulders, she nearly leaped out of her skin.</p><p>                “Relax, Seeker,” cooed Hawke. She dug her thumbs into the muscles at the base of Cassandra’s neck and rubbed little circles. “You know what time it is?”</p><p>                “What time is it?”</p><p>                “No idea, but the moon’s been up for a while, so I’m sure it’s time for bed.”</p><p>                “But <em>you’re</em> here.” Cassandra meant to say something wittier or perhaps more flirtatious than that, but her face was too hot from the Champion’s hands on her to produce anything better.</p><p>                “I just wanted to check on my favorite member of the Nevarran royal family before I go to bed,” Hawke declared, moving her thumbs out across Cassandra’s shoulders. The Seeker was unable to suppress a groan as Hawke’s fingers massaged her weary muscles. “You should rest, Cassandra,” the Champion said in a softer voice. The use of her first name, and the gentleness with which Hawke said it, made shivers run up Cassandra’s back. She swallowed hard, as if she could flush away the yearning that swelled low in her sternum, creeping up her chest. <em>You should rest, Cassandra.</em> She wanted to <em>live</em> in the sound of Hawke’s voice on that one phrase.</p><p>                “I…need to finish this first,” she said. “I should get answers out as soon as possible.”</p><p>                “You should sleep,” Hawke disagreed.</p><p>                “Shouldn’t you?” Cassandra countered. Hawke always seemed up at odd hours of the night, and whenever the Inquisitor gave them a moment to rest, Hawke was sleeping. Varric swore she could drop herself immediately into an unconscious state. <em>Like a defense mechanism</em>, he’d claimed. She had heard them up late in the campsite, talking in low voices, and once she’d exited her tent to take watch and seen Varric laying in the grass beside her, like he had fallen asleep keeping Hawke company.</p><p>                “I’m not running the Inquisition,” Hawke countered, pressing her thumbs along Cassandra’s spine, again drawing an unbidden sound from the Seeker’s throat, low and pleasured. Cassandra bit down on that as soon as possible, realizing precisely what it sounded like. Worse, she couldn’t see Hawke’s face to gauge her reaction. She did note that Hawke’s hands stopped what they were doing, though she did not withdraw. The Seeker cleared her throat and stiffened her shoulders.</p><p>                “That would be Inquisitor Lavellan, and last I looked, she was not sleeping either.”</p><p>                “She should rest too, but I can only fight one war at a time,” Hawke said, and Cassandra could picture the wry smile twitching on her lips. “Just for a minute,” she coaxed. “I’ll stay with you.” It was on the tip of Cassandra’s tongue to point out that just a week ago, Hawke had been trying to tell her to stay away, that Hawke was trouble and heartbreak and disappointment. But she worried Hawke might remember and leave, so she said nothing.</p><p>                “For a minute,” Cassandra allowed at last. It was good that Hawke took her hands from Cassandra’s shoulders, or she might never have gotten to her feet. Not bothering to remove her boots, she dropped onto her cot and lay down. She presumed Hawke would take her vacated chair, but instead the Champion lifted Cassandra’s feet so she could sit at the foot of the cot, and let Cassandra’s feet lay in her lap. As always, Hawke’s touch made Cassandra’s heart immediately leap into her throat, like it was trying to choke her to death before she could say something stupid. As frustrating as it was, it was probably for the best.</p><p>                “You want to hear about a bar fight I got into with Isabela?” she asked, looking over at Cassandra. Her eyes were darker in the dim light of the tent, and the candles on Cassandra’s field table highlighted her cheekbones and the charming swoop of the bridge of her nose.</p><p>                “Is that where you lost the tooth?” She cursed herself for asking as soon as she’d said it—why remind Hawke of it?—but the Champion just smiled.</p><p>                “What, this?” she said, poking her tongue into the empty space beside her right canine tooth where her first bicuspid had once been. “Nah, that was another fight. I’ll tell you some other time.” Throwing an arm over Cassandra’s feet, she sank into “storyteller mode”, which was something she and Varric both did concerning their adventures in Kirkwall. Before she launched into it, she looked back at Cassandra. “You have to close your eyes though,” she stipulated.</p><p>                “Then I might fall asleep.” Just a minute of rest, and she’d listen to Hawke tell her story, and then she’d finish those correspondences before going to bed.</p><p>                “Then I’ll tell the story again. We’re <em>resting</em> now, Seeker.”</p><p>                “<em>You’re</em> not.” Again, the hypocrisy! But then, if Hawke went to rest, she would return to her own tent, and Cassandra would be left alone. “Tell me the story.”</p><p>                “So, I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced summer in Kirkwall…” Hawke did not even finish setting up the circumstances of the bar fight before Cassandra had fallen asleep. When she opened her eyes, the candles were nearly burned out—she would scold Hawke later for not putting them out—but then, she had only meant to close her eyes for a moment—and Hawke was still at the foot of the cot, toying absently with the laces of Cassandra’s boots, a far-off look on her face in which Cassandra saw far too many shadows. The memories of Kirkwall seemed to dance across her face and while Cassandra’s groggy mind could not cohesively remember them all, she did remember Varric’s bitterness when she confronted him about keeping Hawke hidden.</p><p>                <em>You people have done enough to her.</em></p><p>                “You should rest, Champion,” she croaked. Her body was too heavy to get up now, just another minute, enough to rouse herself, and she would return to Leliana’s correspondence.</p><p>                “Not enough room, Seeker,” Hawke said after a long moment processing Cassandra’s simple words.</p><p>                “There’s plenty.” The cot was by no means made for two, especially not considering Cassandra’s breadth, but Hawke did not fight her anymore, crawling around to lay alongside her. By necessity, she threw an arm over Cassandra, and Cassandra couldn’t decide to turn towards or away from Hawke, so she simply stayed there on her back, with the Champion pressed against her shoulder. If she hadn’t been half-asleep still, her heart might have simply given way over the mere idea that the Champion of Kirkwall was cuddled against her on her own cot. Hawke’s breathing was soft and warm against her neck, and while Cassandra was already slipping into unconsciousness again, she could feel Hawke doing the same.</p><p>                “’night,” Hawke murmured. Cassandra mumbled in reply, only an acknowledgement that Hawke had spoken, and then they were asleep.</p><p>***</p><p>                Hawke awoke the next morning falling off the side of Cassandra’s cot and nearly taking the tent down with her. Miraculously, Cassandra slept through that, along with Hawke’s awkward and ungraceful creeping over the cot so she could slip out the tent entrance. Her back and neck were less than thrilled about the sleeping arrangements (Maker, how <em>old</em> was she?), but for the first time in <em>ages</em> she hadn’t dreamed at all, just drifted into blissful blackness. Relishing the thought, Hawke emerged from the Seeker’s tent and stretched as far as her limbs would allow. The sun had just come up over the horizon, bathing the wide grass plains in weak yellow light and making the crest of the forest across the river seem to glow. A faint mist emanated off the water, giving the whole area a murky, dreamy feel that would fade into gruesome reality as the sun burned away the fog. Hawke breathed deeply of the cool, gritty air and wondered how Merrill was doing.</p><p>                The Iron Bull, sitting by the smoldering fire pit as the last watchman, glanced very quickly between Hawke, and Cassandra’s tent. But he said nothing as Hawke ambled over and picked up a kettle of coffee to put over the fire. She jabbed the embers and tossed some more wood onto it. She was still not over their traveling with a Qunari, but far from the fight Hawke had expected when he found out <em>she</em> was the one who had slain the Arishok, The Iron Bull seemed simply in awe of the human who had managed such a feat. He had wanted the whole story as soon as he met her, as he had only ever gotten it through a long chain of re-tellings. She had been the talk of Par Vollen for some time, he said, which sounded almost like a threat.</p><p>                “Sleep well?” Iron Bull asked at last.</p><p>                “Better than I have in decades,” Hawke replied. Before she could elaborate, or Bull could pose another question, Varric crawled out of their tent, pleased as ever to have to wake up with the sun, or any time before noon.</p><p>                “And where were you last night?” he exclaimed, seeing Hawke seated at the fire. “Not wandering around slaying bandits, I hope.” He’d already brushed his hair back out of his face and tied it back, and looked far more put-together than Hawke, whose rumpled clothing and untidy hair suggested odd, or at least careless, sleeping arrangements.</p><p>                “Without you? Perish the thought. Do you want any coffee?” The Iron Bull was looking between Hawke, and Varric, and Cassandra’s tent, and Hawke was beginning to realize the assumptions that were being made, but she didn’t have the energy to argue them, nor did she care enough to bother. She combed her hands through her hair in a cursory effort at neatening it.</p><p>                By the time the coffee was warm enough to bother drinking, the Inquisitor was up and practicing some sparkly spell or another just outside of camp while Inquisition soldiers surreptitiously observed, and Cassandra came shuffling out of her tent, looking, Hawke thought, well-rested. The Iron Bull let out a low chuckle.</p><p>                “Well done, Cass,” he said with a roguish grin. Cassandra blinked, Hawke said nothing, and Bull winked, to congratulate Cassandra on nailing the Champion of Kirkwall.</p><p>                “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and it’s too early to care,” she said, throwing herself down beside Hawke and thrusting a tin mug out wordlessly to be filled. Graciously, Hawke filled it up. One night of rest was great, but they had a lot to do.</p><p>                “Is everyone ready to move on?” Lavellan approached the group of them. “Our soldiers should have repaired the bridge, so I believe we can make it over the river by mid-day if we leave now…” She glanced around at her companions, nursing themselves into consciousness.</p><p>                “I’m ready when you are, commander,” Hawke said with an errant salute. Lavellan’s gaze turned to Cassandra and she smiled.</p><p>                “Did you finally get some sleep last night, Cassandra?” Lavellan asked. The Iron Bull snorted, and Varric’s eyes sharpened, turning his attention to Hawke.</p><p>                “I did, yes. I’m ready to pack now, if you are.” She downed the rest of her coffee, grimacing at the taste, and rose to her feet.</p><p>                “Oh, I imagine the Seeker’s feeling <em>great</em>,” Iron Bull said. Varric whipped his scrutinizing gaze to the Qunari.</p><p>                “Oh, <em>no.</em>” Judging by the repulsed expression budding on Varric’s face, Hawke guessed he at least had figured out what The Iron Bull was implying.</p><p>                “What are <em>you</em> looking at?” Cassandra asked him, tensing for a fight.</p><p>                “Let’s get these tents broken down!” Hawke exclaimed, slapping Cassandra on the back as she leaped to her feet. “Say, Inquisitor, help me with these little ones we’re taking with us.” They dispersed to work, and Cassandra was saved a while longer from a discussion on the nature of her relationship with the Champion.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>At some point, Bull will definitely congratulate Cassandra on getting railed by the Champion of Kirkwall and she's going to assume Varric told him something and she'll go to rip Varric a new one and that's how Varric finds out his best friend is dating his worst enemy. </p><p><a href="https://imakemywings.tumblr.com/post/611910092149899264/fandom-dragon-age-inquisition-pairing-cassandra">On tumblr</a> | <a href="https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/1136799">On Pillowfort</a></p><p>If you liked this, you might like <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22619092">A First Encounter</a> by amarmeme!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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